


Dr Flug X Reader - Service with a Scream

by writeyouin



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Blood and Gore, F/F, F/M, Knight in Shining Armour, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 03:50:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15064508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeyouin/pseuds/writeyouin
Summary: When the reader starts working for Black Hat, they find out that it isn't a Hero organisation as originally thought, but at the cost of a soul, it's too late to quit.





	Dr Flug X Reader - Service with a Scream

You sat quietly in the dark office of Black Hat manor, as the very creature himself glanced boredly at your CV. You weren’t quite sure what to make of Black Hat, having never seen anyone like him before; was Black Hat even his real name or an alias of some form? Despite everything, you smiled patiently, awaiting any interview questions he might have, to see if you could manage cleaning such a large mansion alone. Haphazardly, Black Hat threw the CV over his shoulder where it drifted onto the floor. Your heart sank; jobs were scarce, and you really needed this one.

“Would you be able to move into the manor?” Black Hat asked with the very air of superiority you’d expect from royalty. “I hate employees who have to commute.”

You smiled, relieved, “Yes Sir.”

Black Hat detested the sunny expression, but at least you didn’t stutter when you spoke or pester him with uncontrollable hyperactivity. “And a weekly salary of $2000 will suffice?”

You sputtered at the ridiculously high number, “W-what?!”

Black Hat waved his hand casually, “Fine, £5,000, but that’s all.”

From the heavy atmosphere, you knew he wasn’t joking; in one week you’d make more money than you’d ever had in your entire life. To Black Hat, the sum was a mere pittance in comparison to what he made on even his cheapest products, but what kind of villain would he be if he paid his subordinates a real cut of the profit?

“I- I-” You swallowed, determined to play it cool, “Yes Sir, that’s adequate, thank you.”

Black Hat gave you a form, grinning devilishly while you signed it without even reading the terms and conditions; humans were so predictable, signing over their souls without even realising.

He got up, and you followed him to the door, “Your room is on the floor above us, you will go in there to collect your uniform and begin work immediately; a list of instructions has been left there for you. Out now!”

You turned to thank Black Hat, but he shut the door on you, chortling darkly on the other side because you were sure to be entertaining, one way or another.

Upon finding your room, which was marked very clearly with a red marker ‘Cleaner’s Room,’ you were dumbfounded upon seeing everything from your previous apartment boxed neatly by the wall. You’d seen some interesting superpowers in your world of heroes and villains and it was obvious that Black Hat wasn’t human, but exactly what were his powers limited to? Pushing away your curiosity, you made your way to the wardrobe next to a study desk. Hanging from the wardrobe was a neatly pressed, dark red suit which you felt was far too nice to use as the uniform it was clearly intended to be. You donned it all the same, then picked up two pieces of paper on the desk, ’ _For (Y/N),_ ’ written neatly atop them. One was a map of the mansion, the other a checklist of your task for the day. You turned the list over in your hand, finding it curious when there was only one task on the sheet, ’ _Clean the basement._ ’

* * *

Flug held a beaker full of a bubbling green liquid in front of his mask, examining it carefully to see that it was stable. He picked up a pipette containing sulphuric acid, cautiously preparing to add only one drop to the mixture which would hopefully lead to the next great weapon of Black Hat Industries. He had to be careful and keep a steady hand, otherwise the consequences would be catastrophic. Before he squeezed the pipette, a banshee scream echoed through the manor’s halls. Flug dropped the beaker and pipette, barely managing to catch them in clumsy hands. His pupils were mere dots, anxious sweat staining his brown bag as the green liquid in the beaker started smoking, ready to explode at the slightest moment; if that were to happen, it would take all of Black Hat Manor with it, and Flug knew from watching Black Hat devour the soles of the damned that death was not the final end, nor the worst that could happen. He didn’t want his soul to be consumed by Black Hat. Slowly, and thanks to his petrified stillness, the beaker’s contents fizzled back to its previous state.

Flug placed it down on the table gently then marched to his lab door where he was sure he’d find Demencia laughing; it was probably her who’d screamed to scare him into exploding himself.

Upon entering the hallway Flug crumpled to a heap on the floor, a heavy weight bearing upon him. He opened his eyes to find you on top of him, fear transforming your face into someone far more innocent and child-like than you were. Flug frowned, grabbing your arms as you squirmed on top of him; he couldn’t help but think of you as a scared rabbit, especially when he felt your heart pumping. In the seconds he held you, he noticed you were wearing a uniform with the Black Hat insignia on the corner pocket.

“Wha- Who-” Flug started, before remembering that Black Hat had mentioned in passing that he was hiring a cleaner for the manor that morning. Was it possible he’d meant you?

When it became evident you couldn’t escape your captors surprisingly strong grip, you ducked your head into his chest. “Escape,” You stammered. “Have to escape.”

Usually, upon meeting someone as lovely looking as you, Flug would have went to pieces, falling over himself to even manage a sentence. However, as he held your shivering form, he knew he had to find out exactly what had upset you. “Hey uh, are you the new cleaner? Did you see a spider or something? If so, you’re going to have to-”

You shook your head forcefully, “This place is evil. It’s not worth the money, just let me out. I want to go home.”

“Wait… are you quitting?!”

You nodded vigorously.

“Did you sign a contract?”

You looked up to the man before you, ignoring his odd costume, “WHAT DOES IT MATTER? I DON’T CARE ABOUT ANY BLOODY CONTRACT, JUST TELL ME WHERE THE DAMN EXIT IS.”

Flug tightened his grip on you as you struggled against him again, “You can’t leave.”

“GET OFF ME!” You screamed as if possessed.

“H-hey, stop it. I’m trying to help. If you signed the contract, you can’t leave without Mr Black Hat’s permission. He’ll kill you if you do, and trust me, it won’t be quick. He’ll kill you slowly and painfully, tearing off your skin by the inch or by nailing you to a wall where you can starve to death, or maybe he’ll-” Flug stopped upon seeing the damaging effect he was having on your already terrified mind; he was good at stating facts and truths, not on comforting people he wanted to help, despite being a self-proclaimed villain. He sighed, “In that contract, you gave your soul to Mr Black Hat; you have to work to get it back. Now, whatever he’s asked you to do can’t be that bad, right?”

“He-” You retched, barely managing not to throw up, “He wants me to clean the basement.”

Flug almost laughed, so it probably was just a silly case of a spider’s nest or something, “Look, I’ve got my own work to do so-”

You gripped his lab coat, “No. Please, please don’t leave me.”

“Uh…” He couldn’t help feeling sorry for those sad eyes. “Alright… I guess I can help you out on your first day… It probably won’t take long.”

* * *

Flug stared at the basement with wide eyes. He wasn’t scared. Shocked maybe, but not scared. No matter where he looked, the room was covered wall to wall in sticky, crimson blood and human entrails. Were those intestines on the ceiling? He thought so. And there was a messy patch of vomit by the stairs, undoubtedly yours, right next to a rib cage and some eyes.

Flug couldn’t blame you for hugging onto him so tightly, Black Hat’s game was an obvious one. Scare the new person into leaving so he could torture another soul without having to work for it; after all, chasing heroes was far too much work when civilians came so easily. Flug had to hand it to Black Hat, he was impressed; how many people had he murdered just to fill this room with so many entrails? If he stepped in, he knew the blood and gristle would go up to his ankles, and you were expected to clean all of this up with the provided bucket, mop, hoover, and cloth? It was impossible and cruel; so, an easy day by Black Hat’s standards.

Flug held you close to him, enjoying being the brave one for once, as he stroked your hair which he longed to feel under his gloves, though he couldn’t say why; perhaps this was the  _Hero Syndrome_  villains feared so much.

“(Y/N),” he said, liking the sound of your name now that he’d said it, “did you know what this company was when you signed up?”

You stared up at him, your face ghostly pale and throat dry as you croaked a reply, “B-B-Black Hat told me it was a-a company that makes g-gadgets for he-heroes.”

Flug rolled his eyes, of course that had been part of the game too. “Look, I’m going to make this very simple for you, we make weapons and gadgets for other villains to kill their respective heroes. Mr Black Hat now owns you, so you can’t leave and believe me, there are far worse things than death if you try. Whatever mess Mr Black Hat throws at you, you’re going to have to clean it up; this is merely a test of your will-power. I’ll help you clean this up, but just this once, okay? And to do that, I need you to let go of me, so I can get some of my inventions that will help sort through this mess.”

Reluctantly, you let Flug go, instantly missing your anchor to safety.

“I’ll be right back.” And with that, Flug raced off, his gangly legs proving good for the task. Thankfully, he was soon back, followed by a large, blue bear which was carrying a mass of technology. Your heart all but stopped at the sight of the creature. Despite Flug’s cries, the bear dropped its load, running to you and enveloping you in a warm hug.

“(Y/N),” Flug said, trying to find where 5.0.5. had hid your face, “meet 5.0.5. He’s one of the permanent residents here, and he’s here to help.”

5.0.5. dropped you, grinning proudly and stepping into the basement doorway to see the problem at hand. Much like a replay of you earlier, 5.0.5. took one look at the massacre in the room, roared in terror, and bolted down the hallway on all fours.

Flug sighed, knowing he’d now have to sleep in 5.0.5’s room for the next month, “Never mind.”

He grabbed his specialised vacuum cleaner, inputting a new setting that would locate and trap all blood so he could be done quickly, “As you can see,” he addressed you as he would a camera, “this is no ordinary hoover. With this setting, it will clean this room in minutes, vaporising the blood upon entry so it turns to dust, saving room so the bag doesn’t have to be emptied as often.”

You watched wordlessly as Flug did your job for you, tackling the room effortlessly, even spritzing the room with a lemon spray afterwards so he could get rid of the decaying smell. He stepped out of the basement proudly, ready to say more on his invention. You tackled him into a strong hug, glad to be rid of the violent scene; after seeing that, you doubted anything would scare you again.

“Thank you,” You cried, the tears soaking through Flug’s lab coat.

“Oh um-” Flug was used to fear in his line of work, but gratified tears were new. He was suddenly back to his awkward self, his heart racing in his chest as his hands hovered nervously above your back. “It- It Was nothing- Just a bit of- There was- I wouldn’t-”

As words failed him, Flug let himself hug you, his head resting on your shoulder where his bag crinkled; he breathed in your scent, glad to have cleaned the room if this were to be his reward.

* * *

From his office, Black Hat sneered, watching over the security feed. He hated the solidarity you and Flug had formed. He’d wanted to terrify you into being a pawn, perhaps even create an actual villain out of you, but of course the honourable Doctor Flug with a penchant for victims had stepped in. Satan, he hoped this wouldn’t create… stirrings, or dare he think it without breaking out into violent pustules? Love.


End file.
